The Freak Club
by native portlandian
Summary: "I know it's not easy for you, living this life, but try to remember, always try to remember, you're not the only one with troubles." AU. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I still do not own the Teen Titans. Or Harry Potter for that matter.

…

At six years old, Raven had experienced both too much and not enough of the world around her. She was a quiet girl, silenced early on by an alcoholic father with a deep streak of mean and fists freed by alcohol. It was only six months ago that he had left. Raven had not been entirely sure what happened to her father; only that her mother had entered Raven's room without knocking, lifted her into her arms and hugged her tightly. "Everything's gonna be okay now," she had whispered into Raven's hair. "He can't hurt us anymore."

Then came the doctor visits. Dr. Adams was a nice enough woman, but Raven had never liked strangers. Especially strangers that sat you down on a too-soft couch and asked you talk about deeply buried secrets. At first, Raven's mother had sat in the room with her, filling in her daughter's silences with stories of Raven's father's temper and how she had never been able to send Raven to public school. Eventually though, Dr. Adams took her mother aside and spoke in hushed, measured tones. After that, Raven sat on that couch alone, her mother promising that she would be right outside.

Raven wasn't a talkative child. The psychiatrist's questions were mostly answered in a series of hesitative nods and shakes of her small head. One day, she asked Raven a question the child did not entirely understand.

"Raven," she had said, her dark blue eyes focused intensely on Raven's face. Raven had been studying her hands – neatly folded in her lap – but looked up when the doctor spoke her name. "Do you have any friends?"

The word was foreign. Raven creased her eyebrows. "F…friends?" Her tongue rolled the word around her lips. Raven loved to read, she had been reading since the age of four. Often times that word appeared, usually pertaining to two characters with a close bond.

"Yes, dear," Dr. Adams smiled. "Friends. Girls on your street perhaps?"

Girls on her street? There weren't very many. And they mostly stuck to themselves. Raven generally stayed in her room, watching them out the window. But as soon as Raven stepped outside to join them, they pulled back, whispering, and ran away.

"No," she answered quietly. "I don't think so."

Dr. Adam's face softened into an expression Raven knew well – pity. She had seen it on her neighbors' faces before they shut their curtains on her father's bad nights. She had seen it on strangers' faces when she and her mother went out to get groceries, their eyes lingering on barely covered bruises. It was an expression she loathed.

After that session, her mother and Dr. Adams had had yet another hushed discussion. Raven had sat waiting in one of the lobby chairs, knees drawn up to her chin. She was alone. The ring of the tiny bell on the door signified another person entering. Raven looked over, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear as she did so. It was a tall, beautiful brown-haired woman, her hand tightly clenched in that of a little boy's. They sat across the room from her, the woman immediately picking up a magazine. The boy, who looked to be about Raven's age, swung his short legs off the edge of the chair. He had blonde hair that stuck up in random tufts and eyes the color of pine needles. The boy was looking around the room, fidgeting as though he couldn't keep still. He put a hand in his mouth and absently chewed it.

Raven watched the child with fascination. She had never seen this boy before. Occasionally, she saw a little red-haired girl who chittered in a different language to her father. Her sessions were before Raven's, and sometimes they crossed paths. The little girl said a heavily accented 'hello' whenever she made eye contact, but Raven never returned the greeting.

The woman with the little boy, presumably his mother, glanced over at her boy and gently pulled his hand out of his mouth. She murmured something that Raven didn't catch, and the boy made a whining sound. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pursed his lips. While doing this, his green eyes caught Raven's. Instinctively, she looked down into her lap, overwhelmed by shyness.

At that moment she was saved by her mother and Dr. Adams coming into the room. Raven hopped off the chair and stepped over to her mother, trying with all of her might not to look at the little blonde boy. Raven's mother's brow was furrowed deeply, and her violet eyes – exactly the same shade as her daughter's – were swimming with worry. Raven grasped her mother's hand, keeping her eyes on her blue tennis shoes.

"Remember what I said, Arella," Dr. Adams said. "I think this will be a good experience for both of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Adams," Raven's mother murmured. She was grasping her daughter's hand very tightly. While her mother led the way out, Raven glanced back. The little blonde boy was watching her, his large eyes wide with curiosity. As the door began to close, he raised his hand in a wave.

"Come on, Raven," her mother said. Raven wrenched her gaze from the now closed door and followed her mother into the parking lot.

…

On the car ride home, while Raven sat picking at the strings on her booster seat, her mother explained to her that Dr. Adams thought it was a good idea to enroll Raven in the local elementary school. Raven had accepted this with silence, but clenched her hands into fists. School was another word she often saw in her books but, like friends, she had never experienced it. Her mother had taught her how to read and write and basic math and science, but the social aspect of her developing years had been severely neglected. Raven was terrified.

The next few days were a blur of phone calls and shopping for new items such as a backpack and new clothes. Raven wasn't really one for shopping – she mostly just agreed with whatever her mother dressed her in. Her mother insisted she pick out a backpack, so Raven pulled a plain dark blue one off of the shelf. Blue _was_ her favorite color.

On Wednesday, her mother woke Raven and informed her that today was to be her first day at school. She dressed the girl in her new outfit – an uncomfortably puffy yellow dress that Raven had not been all that excited about. Her mother brushed out Raven's short jet black hair and clipped it back with a tiny yellow bow. Raven tied her own shoes – something she was very proud of.

After breakfast, she was bundled into the car along with her backpack – which was filled with various art materials and a few notebooks. Raven had snuck in the current book she was reading, _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_, even though her mother had insisted that Raven try and make friends with the other kids. Her mother should have known that if Raven rarely talked at home, she probably would not be speaking at a strange new place to complete strangers.

Crawley Elementary was a large, singular building that reminded onlookers vaguely of a prison. Raven stared out the car window at this new place of entrapment and felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Here we are," her mother murmured. She looked just as nervous as Raven, knuckles white against the steering wheel. She parked the car, and then walked her daughter into the main entrance. Raven clutched her mother's fingers extremely tight. The other hand took hold of her backpack strap.

The main office, directly adjacent to the entrance, was a mazelike area partitioned off from the hallway by panes of glass. Each pane was decorated with art from each grade. Raven eyed a glittery pink horse next to the door.

Her mother pushed it open and brought Raven inside. Sitting at the desk in front of them was a mousy-looking woman whose brown hair was pulled back in a severe bun. Raven tugged at a strand of her own hair, suddenly wishing she had spent more time on it that morning.

"How can I help you?" the woman chirped. Her smile was huge and bright, and Raven ducked behind her mother's legs.

"Hello," her mother said after a moment. She seemed flustered. "My daughter, Raven Roth, is starting school here today."

The receptionist's bright eyes flicked to Raven, who pulled herself further away from the wax-like face. "Oh, how cute! What grade is she in?"

"First," her mother murmured. The receptionist nodded and spun her chair to face a file cabinet. Raven let out a breath of relief. She didn't like that empty smile. While the woman was going through some papers, Raven glanced around the office. There were closed doors all around her, each with a tiny plaque announcing who was inside, such as _Principal_ and _Nurse_.

"Here we are!" The receptionist's high pitched voice made Raven's head snap back around. The woman had separated out two stacks of paper. She ran a finger down a list of names. "It says here that Raven will be in Mr. Richard's class." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the door behind them opened. Raven spun around to face a boy who was a little bit older than her. He had dark skin and a bald scalp. Gray eyes glittered beneath thick eyebrows. He was a tall boy, and would probably grow into a huge man. It took Raven a moment to realize that the boy had a prosthetic leg.

He limped up to the reception desk and handed a sheet of paper up to the woman. "Here ya go, Miss Klein!" he smirked.

"Oh, thank you, Victor!" she smiled. "You're always the first one up here with the attendance sheet. You're a little speedster!"

Victor puffed out his chest with pride. Miss Klein returned her attention to Raven. "Raven, this is Victor. Victor, this is our new student, Raven." Victor turned to Raven, giving her a big wave.

"Hi!" he exclaimed. "I'm in third grade! What grade are you in?"

Raven swallowed and looked at her feet. "First," she whispered. She tried not to look at his prosthetic.

"Victor," Miss Klein continued. "Will you take Raven to Mr. Richard's class?"

"Yeah!" Victor smiled again, his teeth a bright white against his chocolate lips. Raven's mother looked as though she were about to object, but Miss Klein interrupted with a flick of her hand.

"You have papers to fill out, Miss Roth," she explained. "And Victor knows his way around the school – he is Mr. Blood's representative." Raven's mother still looked worried, but she let Raven go.

"Have a good day," she murmured, kneeling beside her daughter. "I'll be here to pick you up after school is over." Raven nodded absently, feeling absolutely overwhelmed.

Victor grabbed onto Raven's hand. Immediately, she slipped it back out of his grasp. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"First graders have to hold hands when they're walking without a teacher," he explained. Again, he took hold of Raven's hand. This time, she didn't take it away. His hand loosely enveloped hers, as though he wasn't particularly interested in her touch – or was mildly disgusted by her.

As Victor pulled her out the door, Raven watched as her mother waved. Her eyes were sad, and Raven wanted to shake off the third grader's grip and run back to her mother. But she could only watch as she turned a corner and her mother faded from view.

"Was that your momma?" Victor asked. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, but his full lips had quirked into a smile.

"Yes," Raven answered. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and let her eyes trail over the murals that adorned the hallways.

"You guys look just like each other," Victor commented. A silence fell over them. Raven soon got used to Victor's lurching gate; despite his handicap he walked rather quickly.

Eventually, the two came upon a door that was adorned with ducklings, all of which had names carefully written in sharpie on their wings. "This is Mr. Richard's room," Victor explained. "He's kinda weird, but also sorta funny." He shrugged, and let go of her hand. "I gotta go back to Mr. Blood's room. Seeya, Raven!" And with that, Victor took off down the hallway at a half-run. She briefly wondered what had happened to his leg.

Swallowing her nervousness, Raven tapped on the door. It was quiet for a moment, and then it swung open to reveal a thin man with red hair and narrow glasses. He knelt down on one knee in front of her, immediately becoming eye-to-eye. Behind this man were about twenty other young faces, all peering curiously at the newcomer.

"'Ello there, little one." His voice was thickly accented. Raven identified it as British. "And who might you be?"

"Raven," she mumbled. This man was leaning much too close to her. "I'm new."

The man smiled knowingly and stood, using one hand to gently lead Raven into the room. "My dear little duckies," he began, addressing the room. "We have a new student." The classroom remained silent, all of the children watching Raven with mild interest in their eyes. "Don't be shy," the man said to her. "We don't bite." Raven watched a boy in the front row, who was gnawing distractedly on a pencil, and decided she begged to differ.

The man, who introduced himself as Mr. Richard, guided Raven over to an empty spot at a table cluster. There were about six separate clusters of desks, each with four or five students. The one Raven was seated at had three other students. She didn't really look at them at first – really, she only looked at the floor. But when she was comfortably seated and Mr. Richards returned to the front of the classroom to continue his explanation of African herbivores, she glanced up and was shocked to realize she recognized the child sitting across from her.

It was the blonde boy from Dr. Adams' office. Currently, the child was watching the board with rapt attention, his green eyes bright with interest. Raven immediately felt nervous. What if he tried to talk to her again? Next to her sat a girl with jet black hair and skin nearly as pale as Raven's. She didn't seem as interested in the discussion, and was picking absently at a red-painted nail. Diagonal to Raven was an Asian girl who was playing with her long black braid. She also did not seem to be paying much attention.

"Alright." Mr. Richard clapped his hands together, snapping Raven's attention back to him. "Can anyone tell me why a giraffe's neck is so long?"

Immediately, the blonde boy's hand shot up. The eagerness to answer the question was obvious in the child's gap-toothed smile. He was practically falling out of his seat. To Raven's surprise, Mr. Richard did not immediately call on the child. Instead, his brown eyes flickered around the rest of the room, which remained silent. A few kids shrugged. "Anyone else?" he added hopefully. When no one answered his plea, Mr. Richard sighed and gave in. "Garfield?"

"Giraffe's necks are so long cuz they need to reach the tippy tops of the trees and eat the leaves!" the boy, apparently Garfield, answered loudly. "Giraffes only have seven bones in their neck. I thought they had, like, ten thousand!" His voice was high and excited, as though he could talk about giraffes all day. Apparently he could, because Mr. Richard raised his hand just as Garfield opened his mouth to blurt some new giraffe-related fact.

"Thank you, Garfield," Mr. Richard cut in. "How very interesting. Now about other fun looking plant-eaters of the African Serengeti…"

This continued for quite a while: Mr. Richard trying to involve the class into the wonderful world of African animals, with Garfield answering every single question with a knowledge rivaling the encyclopedia. This boy seemed to know everything there was to know about animals. The class had just started getting into predators when the bell rang for recess. The door at the other end of the room led out to a playground, as Raven discovered.

She walked out slowly after the rest of the class, Harry Potter book under her arm. Mr. Richard was erasing the board, glasses falling down his thin nose. Raven spared him one more glance before going out onto the playground.

The area was buzzing with children – the first, second, and third graders by the looks of it. Squinting her eyes, Raven could see another playground in the distance – one that swarmed with fourth and fifth graders. A few adults milled around her, keeping sharp eyes on the children. The amount of kids around Raven was suffocating. Trying to get away, she ran to one end of the playground, where less children puttered to and fro.

Raven sat down in the grass and crossed her legs. Letting out a sigh, she opened her book to a dog-eared page and began to read:

_Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to_

"What's that?"

Raven's eyes shot up from the pages of her book. In front of her was a group of children. The one who had spoken was a girl of about her age, who had pink stripes dyed into her blonde pigtails. Behind her were four others – a dark-skinned boy with thick glasses, an older, fatter boy with badly cut orange hair, a boy with an explosion of freckles and crooked teeth, and a serious-looking boy with jet black hair that covered half of his face. They were all watching her with dark eyes and quirked lips – as if they had something collectively planned.

"It's a book," Raven answered. Something did not feel right about these children. The girl rolled her eyes and snatched it out of Raven's small hands.

"I know it's a book, stupid," the girl snapped. She flipped through the pages, a sneer pulling her lip. "What are you doing _reading_? This is supposed to be recess, not _school_."

"Yeah," chirped in the glasses-wearer. "Weirdo!" The rest of the children burst into cruel laughter. Raven cringed away from them. Why were these children so mean?

"Here," the girl sneered. "We'll help you have fun. But first, this book has to go." Raven watched with tears welling in her eyes as the girl handed her precious storybook to the largest boy. "Baran, let's teach _book girl_ how to have real fun." The boy giggled mischievously, taking the book from the girl's hands. Like a choreographed act, the rest of the kids in the group formed a wall behind Baran and Raven. She knew it was to make sure that the adults watching the children didn't see.

"Books are dumb," Baran grunted. Before Raven could object, he threw the book to the ground and stomped on it, driving the delicate pages into the dirt. Raven watched him deface her book, feeling helpless to its damage. The children laughed.

"Hey!" At the sound of the voice, all six of them turned. Walking towards them, head held high, was the blonde boy. Garfield. "You guys need to stop bullying her." Raven was frozen in shock. Garfield stepped in front of her, as if to protect her. Raven thought it was pointless; every single one of the bullies had at least three inches on the child.

"Oh, yeah?" the girl snapped, stepping forward to lean into Garfield's face. "What are you gonna do about it, _beast boy_?" Apparently, this nickname was a taunt, as the rest of the kids giggled meanly. Garfield however, seemed unfazed.

"I'll _tell_," he said slowly. The amused expression dropped from the group's faces, to be replaced by varying levels of anger and guilt.

"You _wouldn't_," the girl hissed, incredulous. Garfield crossed his arms, a smirk on his round face.

"Try me," he said lightly. All five of the kids exchanged looks, and then grimly backed off.

"Fine!" the girl snapped. "See how I care. You two _freaks_ can hang out in _freakville _together!" With that, she stomped off, posse in tow. Baran gave the Harry Potter novel one last kick before following her.

Garfield smiled triumphantly and turned to face Raven. "Jennifer thinks she's older. Like ten. That's why she's so mean."

Raven nodded, blushing. This stranger had come and rescued her. Why?

Garfield was bending over the book. He picked it up and inspected it. It was crinkled and a little muddy. He used his t-shirt to wipe it off, attempted to smooth it, and handed it back to her. "There ya go!" Raven took the book and held it tightly to her chest, afraid someone else might take it away.

"Thank you," she murmured. Garfield smiled his gap-toothed grin.

"Your name's Raven, right?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yeah," she answered. She wished he would leave her be.

"I'm Garfield!" When this didn't warrant a reply, he attempted explaining it to her. "You know…like the cat!"

"I know," she said quietly. Garfield nodded happily, his blonde hair flopping into his face. Suddenly, a memory sparked in his green eyes.

"Hey! Don't you go to Dr. Adams?"

Raven tensed. So he had remembered. "Yes," she answered carefully.

Garfield bounced up and down on his toes. The smile had not left his face for one second. "Will you be my friend, Raven?" he asked.

Raven was silent for a moment. A friend? Like what she had read in her stories? She looked at Garfield. He was waiting for an answer, rocking on his heels and letting his arms swing around. His blonde hair was sticking up in the back, like he hadn't brushed it that morning. No, she had not imagined that her first friend would look like this. But the caring gleam in his emerald eyes was genuine. That was something she had not seen for a very long time.

"Okay."

…

A/N – So this will remain a one-shot unless requested otherwise. I may be convinced into a two- or three-shot. I'm sorry if some characters were a little OOC, but it is AU ;) Double points if you can guess who all of the characters are in the Teen Titans universe! Everyone mentioned is a character except for Dr. Adams and the receptionist, who are OC's. Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – Still don't own 'em. Or Bowling for Soup, despite my love for their wacky tunes. Or Harry Potter. Hopefully I've covered everything

A/N – So a few of you asked me to continue, and since I have nothing better to do, here you go! I got a request for making them older. What the hell, enjoy! Warning: Prepare yourself for fluff in choking quantities.

…

It was never quite clear when she had fallen in love with him. Maybe it was the day he suddenly became beautiful, his skin-and-bones physique filling out into lean muscle, his face becoming defined and sharp. Perhaps it was when he took her to the eighth grade dance because she had cried when Malchior Eriksson didn't ask her. It may have been the day in fourth grade when he threw a punch at a boy for calling her creepy. Or maybe it was the day he saved her from playground bullies and asked her to be his friend. In any case, Raven was not a stupid girl. But she was in love with her best friend, so didn't that automatically make her one?

She sat in her living room, curled in an armchair with a beat up copy of _The Deathly Hallows_ in her fingers. Her eyes remained glued to the book, but a keen observer would have noticed that the page never turned. Raven was thinking.

In the next ten minutes, Garfield would be at her house to pick her up. He had called her not too long before that, informing her of her impending kidnapping. This was not an unusual circumstance. Ever since he acquired a car, the seventeen year old had spent all of his free time driving Raven anywhere and everywhere. She complained the whole way – not that she really minded.

She and Garfield had an odd relationship. Ever since day one, Raven had made it quite clear that Garfield was not her preferred choice of company. In fact, their first few play-dates had consisted of Raven reading while he played video games. They could sit in comfortable silence for hours, just happy to have a loving presence close by. Raven had learned very quickly that Garfield was orphaned. "It's the reason I go to Dr. Adams." He had shrugged. It took a lot longer for Raven to open up about her father. When she did, Garfield had creased his eyebrows together at first, and then said, "That isn't very nice. I'll _never_ let anyone hurt you again, Raven. Promise!"

Maybe that's when she fell for him.

Throughout elementary and middle school, they were each other's only friends. Every once in a while they would hang out with Victor Stone, the kid with the prosthetic leg, but he was much older than them, and couldn't spend too much time in their company. Raven and Garfield became their own little bubble – shunned by the rest of the world because they were different. Jennifer and her posse, who grew up right along with them, began to refer to Raven and Garfield as 'The Freak Club'. Gar always shrugged it off. "The Freak Club is exclusive," he had said one day at lunch between bites of salad. "Just you and me. I don't mind that."

Could she have loved him at _that_ moment?

And then high school happened. Raven stayed the same for the most part, keeping her signature bobbed cut and peaking her height at 5'2". She never wore make-up, never tried to look pretty. Her boobs weren't huge, and she wasn't rail thin. She remained a permanent fixture of The Freak Club. But for Garfield, he turned from an awkward gangly caterpillar into a full-grown butterfly. Suddenly, he was taller than her, something he had never been. His voice finally dropped into the rich tenor of adulthood after having been cracking throughout middle school. Suddenly, Garfield Logan was _handsome._ And then all of the pretty, popular girls found his dumb jokes funny. All the popular guys started talking to him, inviting him to parties. To his credit, Gar stuck by Raven's side, even though she was holding him back from his true potential in the social ladder. She heard what they whispered to him when they thought she was paying attention to something else. "Why don't you just ditch her and chill with us?" "Gar, are you gonna eat lunch with goth chick _again_?" "Who is that girl anyway? She's so…weird."

"She's my best friend," he'd tell them. "And we've eaten lunch together every day since first grade. Why stop now?" Nowadays, people just accepted the fact that Raven and Garfield were a package deal. It knocked Gar's reputation down a few notches, but he apparently didn't mind.

"Actually, I liked it better when we were losers."

A honk from outside shocked Raven from her memories and made her drop her book. It hit the floor with a _thwap_. She narrowed her eyes and sighed. Garfield was at her house to pick her up. Picking up her battered book and placing it softly on the table beside the armchair, she shoved her cell phone into her sweatshirt pocket and walked over to the door. She didn't bother yelling for her mom, her mother knew Raven was always either with Gar or at the library anyway.

Garfield was sitting at the wheel of his jeep, smiling cheekily at Raven. She blushed, and then cursed herself for doing so. The faster she could fall in love with someone else, the better.

"Rae-Rae!" he called, waving one hand. She shook her head, chuckling to herself.

"I thought you knew how much I do _not_ appreciate that nickname being screamed in public," she deadpanned. She paused at the doorway of the jeep; or technically lack-there-of. Whatever clutter that had previously been on the seat had been probably thrown into the back seat. "You cleared a seat for me. How nice."

"Only the best for my favorite girl!" he laughed. Raven blushed deeper. He extended a hand, and she took it, allowing him to help her into the passenger seat. His grip was strong and warm, and Raven frowned slightly when he pulled it away. The second her seatbelt was clicked in, Garfield took off down the street with a squeal of rubber. "Oops. Forgot how sensitive gas pedals are, heh." Raven rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to die in your stupid jeep, aren't I?"

Garfield shot her a dirty look before patting the dashboard. "Shhh," he murmured. "Don't listen to Rae and her hurtful words."

Raven cocked an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifted in amusement. "Have I been replaced by a car?" Garfield thought for a moment, comically rubbing his thumb over a nonexistent beard.

"Eh. Me and you have better conversations." He shrugged. "Want to hear about dumb stuff Roy did today?"

Raven smirked, flicking her eyes off of Garfield to stare at the blurred trees to her right. "Always." Roy was one of the very popular boys who no one seemed to actually like. He had orange hair that was about forty-five percent gel and always wore these ridiculous sunglasses. Raven found him absolutely obnoxious, and Gar agreed. But he still spent time with him at school, joking around during class and making half-assed passes at girls. Very quickly, Roy assumed he and Garfield were best buddies.

As Gar began a long and complicated story about Roy's pursuit of a girl Raven wasn't exactly familiar with, she tuned out. Garfield had never needed any indication that Raven was listening – he'd probably carry a conversation with a brick wall, given the chance. So instead of listening to the long-winded tale having something to do with a bunch of dandelions and a poem, she watched him as he spoke.

Of all of Garfield's features, Raven's favorite was his eyes. They were a brilliant green, constantly sparkling with mischief and curiosity. If she looked close enough, she knew that his irises were ringed in blue, and around the pupil were streaks of gold.

As the story ended, Gar glanced over at her with a huge smile on his face, exposing still slightly crooked teeth. Raven smiled back, blushing and hoping he hadn't realized she was staring at him.

As he turned his gaze back to the road, he let out a soft snicker. "Man." He took a hand off of the wheel and pushed back his unruly blonde locks, which hadn't changed since childhood. "I never wanna fall in love. Roy is in _way_ too deep. Just seems like a load of crazy to me."

Raven covered up her sudden burst of disappointment with a laugh that may have been a tad too enthusiastic. Gar cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Huh, that wasn't even supposed to be funny, but you _laughed_," he said. "Rae, you've got me pretty confused here." It was an inside joke between them; that Raven rarely, if ever, laughed at Gar's jokes.

"Don't get used to it," she said quietly, a small smirk on her lips. "It may have been a onetime thing."

His lips quirked up at the edges, Gar's signature 'I-don't-want-to-smile-but-I-can't-help-it' look. She saw it often, usually when she playfully insulted him. The radio station Garfield currently had on was playing an obnoxious ad. Raven reached over and turned the tuning knob. Immediately, she was assaulted with the upbeat music and ridiculous lyrics of "Almost" by Bowling for Soup. She was about to change it, but then remembered: it was one of Gar's favorite songs. She pulled her fingers away from the dial, albeit reluctantly. They were coming up close on his house, she would only have to endure it for a little bit longer.

Garfield snorted in disbelief. "Don't you hate this song?" he laughed. His fingers tapped the wheel to the lyrics. Raven was just thankful he wasn't singing.

"You don't." She shrugged. They were stopped at a red light. His eyes were on her – she could feel it.

"Well, aren't you feeling generous today!" he said. An incredulous note had crept into his voice. "The last time I played Bowling for Soup in your presence, you threatened to break my iPod. I'm surprised you're actually letting me listen to my favorite song!"

Raven shrugged again. The light turned green, and they lurched forward. His gaze was off of her, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Having been friends with the boy for ten years, she had memorized almost everything about him. She knew Garfield as well as she knew herself. His favorite color? Easy: green. Gar liked everything green. He constantly joked about his veganism being attributed to his love of the color, and thus his love of veggies. Birthday? March 17th, at 3:49 P.M. Cue another green joke. Favorite song? Almost by Bowling for Soup.

As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Raven unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out, her black hair flopping against her neck as he did so. Garfield turned off the engine, but left the key in the ignition, allowing the song to continue to the end. Raven rolled her eyes and walked slowly to the front door, her hands inside her sweatshirt pockets. Garfield's guardians, Steve and Rita, usually left the front door open, knowing full well that their adopted son rarely remembered a house key. Raven opened the door and stepped into a house as familiar as her own.

Immediately facing the entryway was a table for placing items like keys and spare change. On this table were two framed photos, both of which contained Garfield. The first one had been taken when the boy in question was about ten years old. It was a formal portrait; Steve and Rita standing just behind Garfield, shoulders touching. It was a strange photo – anyone who looked at it knew that the child was not born of the parents. Steve looked stern and serious, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into the camera. He was chief of police in Jump City, a job that suited his no-nonsense attitude well. Rita looked formal and as beautiful as ever. She had been an actress before settling down with Steve. Her brown hair fell just below her shoulders, accentuating her olive skin and deep brown eyes. She had been the woman Raven had seen in Dr. Adams' office, holding hands with her adopted child and chiding him for chewing on his hand. In the photo, Garfield stood stiffly in the middle, his unruly blonde hair tamed with a comb and his skinny body adorned with a wrinkled white button-up shirt. The smile on his face was huge, showing all of his teeth, which were caged with braces. At the time the picture was taken, Garfield had informed Raven that the picture had taken two hours to get one that looked good. Gar wasn't a good picture taker.

The second photo was older. This one was taken before his parents died. Exactly six months before, actually. Garfield, about six years old, had both arms around the necks of his parents, who were kneeling on either side of him. Raven loved the photo. They all looked so happy, identical toothy smiles across the board. They looked so normal – almost like a family on a TV show. Garfield's mother had her head leaning against her son's, their blonde hair mingling together. His father looked like an older version of his son, only with a mop of brown hair. Even their eyes were identical – the exact same shade of green. Raven skimmed her fingers over the glass covering the happy family.

"You know, I think you've seen that picture a million times. Why are you always so fascinated by it?" Raven whipped around, feeling as though she had been caught doing something embarrassing. Which was totally ridiculous. Gar stood a few feet from her, leaning his back against the closed door and cocking an eyebrow at her.

Raven turned back to the framed photo. "I think it's beautiful," she murmured. "I've never seen a group share so much love in one snapshot." When she was five, her family had taken a professional photo. It used to hang above her fireplace until her father broke it during one of his fits of rage. It had looked very fake and tense, the three members of the Roth family not touching or smiling.

Gar strode toward her. He picked up the photo and smiled at it. "You know, I always thought this picture was kinda cliché." His thumbs caressed the edges of the frame. "But I guess love always looks that way in hindsight." Raven blinked. Every once in a while, Garfield said something really wise. It usually surprised her. In a good way.

"Wow," she breathed. "That's actually kind of…deep."

Garfield smirked and put the picture down gently. He shook his hair out and sent Raven a bright smile. "Yeah, I'm a pretty great philosopher. Like that one dude. Play-dough!" And just like that, he ruined it.

"It's Plato, Gar," she sighed. He shrugged.

"C'mon, Rae," he laughed. "You know I've never been much of a history guy." It was true. As much as Garfield knew about animals, he couldn't for the life of him understand history. In eighth grade he turned in an essay detailing the reasons for the American Revolution: the British were forcing them to drink tea.

"Or a math guy," she smirked. "Or an English guy." Garfield crossed his arms and pouted his lip. They often exchanged in playful banter like this. Raven would never admit it, but she loved it.

"Well, I can do science pretty dang good!" he exclaimed. Raven rolled her eyes.

"Pretty dang _well_," she corrected. Gar narrowed his eyes at her, the corner of his lip twitching. She stared him down, a singular eyebrow raised. He broke pretty quickly, throwing his hands up in the air and turning away down the hall. She chuckled and followed him to his room.

Usually, Garfield's bedroom was a disaster. It was so incredibly cluttered that the carpet was practically covered in junk. His clothes were _everywhere_, and Raven found it impossible to determine what was dirty and what was clean. Gar always waved off her comments, saying _he_ knew, and that was all that mattered. The walls were covered in posters of movies, bands, and national geographic covers. One wall was devoted to pictures, tacked haphazardly across the mint green surface. Photos of his parents, of him as a baby, of his adopted parents, and about a hundred of him and Raven. Up until he was fifteen, Gar had had bunk beds. When they were younger, this had been perfect for sleepovers. Around middle school, this became an awkward affair, so they stuck to phone calls if they wanted to prolong their time together into the night. Now Gar had a queen-sized bed that was never made, heaped with clothes, and generally not a place Raven could see anyone actually sleeping.

But today, when she walked into his room, she thought for a moment that she had accidentally gone through the wrong door. The floor was clear, exposing a lush purple carpet. There were no clothes to be seen, so she assumed they were in the chest of drawers that stood against the wall, practically unused for years. A desk stood against the other wall, housing a closed laptop, a lamp, a stack of comic books, and two picture frames. One of them was a picture of his mother and father, waving to the camera from the back of a dusty truck. The other was of her and Gar. They were about eleven and standing on the beach, Garfield flashing a thumbs up and Raven barely smiling under her huge black sunhat. Raven looked up to find that a bulletin board was tacked in front of the desk. Across the wall were framed photo collages; one devoted entirely to her. She blushed just looking at it. Of, course, they were best friends, so it was to be expected. It wasn't like he felt anything for her.

The bed was in the same place. It wasn't made, but it just looked like someone had slept in it recently. Sitting on top of the covers was an acoustic guitar. She glanced over at her friend. Gar had his hands shoved in his pockets, watching her with some apprehension.

"You like?" he asked. His green eyes darted around the room, focusing on everything but her. "It's sorta the reason I kidnapped you. I cleaned it yesterday! Well, my mom helped me, but I did a good forty five percent of the work!"

Raven smiled. "I'm proud of you, Garfield," she said, allowing a note of affection enter her voice. Normally, she showed as little of her emotions as possible. Her father's abuse had made her scared of anger, and her mother's tears made her afraid of sadness. And being happy…well, she hadn't learned that yet. Since she was knew to this world of emotion, she was afraid that she would accidentally let it all spill out at once in an overwhelming flood. In any case, Garfield balanced her out with his emotions; he always felt them one hundred and ten percent. She glanced over at the instrument laying on his bed, wanting to change her train of thought. "You play guitar?"

"Uh, yeah." He was blushing. Her stomach did a tiny flip at the pink tinge to his cheeks. "It was my dad's. Steve took it out of storage a coupla years ago." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't have the heart to really pick it up until about a month ago." Raven stepped closer to the instrument, running her fingers over the taught steel strings.

"Will you play me something?" she asked. His blush increased and he ran a hand through his wild blonde hair.

"I've never really played for anyone before," he said softly. "But for you, sure." Her heart leaped. He stepped over and sat on the other side of the bed. Raven moved slowly until she sat beside him. Garfield swallowed and picked up the guitar, placing it across his lap. After a breath, he began to strum. Almost immediately, Raven recognized the chords to "You are my Sunshine".

She listened to the music in silence, watching Gar's fingers move deftly over the strings. At one point, she turned her attention to his face. It was scrunched with concentration, his eyes focused on the guitar. His eyebrows, thick and surprisingly dark, were pulled together, a tiny crease forming between them. His mouth was fixed in a firm line. Quite suddenly, Raven felt the need to put her hands on his face, smooth away the creases and the stress. Just the thought made her blush.

He brought the song to an end. Raven felt a tugging in her heart. She wanted him to continue. Garfield breathed out, visibly relaxing. His green eyes met hers, and a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "My mom used to sing that to me," he murmured. "Thought it should be the first thing I learn."

"It's beautiful, Garfield," Raven breathed. His smile widened, and his cheeks flushed.

"Wanna learn how to play it?" he exclaimed suddenly. Raven was taken aback slightly, her violet eyes widening.

"Um, I don't know –"

"Oh, come on, Rae," he pleaded. "You are the only person who's seen me play this, so now you gotta return the favor!"

"I don't know how to play guitar," Raven stated. "I doubt I can even hold it right."

Garfield flapped his hand. "Oh, that's all beside the point." Raven opened her mouth to argue, but Garfield interrupted her. "I'll show you. C'mere." He moved to the center of the bed, legs crossed, and patted his lap.

Raven felt herself turn scarlet. "Garfield, I am not going to sit on your lap."

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. "Oh, come _on_, Raven. I thought we were beyond personal boundaries!" Raven crossed her arms, thoroughly uncomfortable. Sit on his lap? Be that close to him? Good lord, she wanted to.

"You know very well how I feel about personal sp – AAAAGH!" The last part, a strangled scream, issued from her mouth because Garfield had actually grabbed her waist and _pulled_ her onto his lap. Her struggle lasted about three seconds, with Gar wrapping his arms entirely around her small frame.

"Rae, chill out!" He was laughing. Apparently, he enjoyed her discomfort. "This is the easiest way to teach you, I swear!"

"Really?" she snapped, finally succumbing to his enveloping frame. "Because I doubt this is how it is taught _normally_."

He snickered. She felt it behind her, a rumble in his chest against her back. His mouth was right next to her ear; she could feel his breath stirring her hair. "I thought we agreed we weren't normal," he murmured. Raven tensed, successfully suppressing the shiver that went through her body at his breath on her neck. He reached out one long arm to grab the guitar, placing it over Raven.

"Okay," he started. His long arms wrapped around her, taking the neck of the guitar with his slim fingers. As he did so, his scruffy jaw rubbed against her shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she hoped he hadn't heard. "We'll start with the chords." His fingers found certain strings on the neck, holding them down tightly. "Okay, Rave. Put your fingers over mine. I think this might work."

"_Might_ work?" she grumbled. Gar groaned behind her.

"Fine. Let's try this." He took his fingers off of the strings and grabbed her hand. He placed her fingers in the position his fingers had been in. "Press down _really_ hard." Raven winced as the steel strings dug into her fingers. He gently put his hand over hers. With the other, he started to strum.

"I think remembering the chords is the hardest part," he murmured. His lips were right next to her ear, brushing it as he spoke. Raven's brain was practically mush. There was _no_ way she was going to remember this.

They spent the next ten minutes learning the opening chords to "You are my Sunshine". Raven eventually got used to Garfield's nearness, and had settled comfortably against him. He had a lot of body heat – she felt like she was wrapped in a blanket.

Eventually, they gave up attempting to doubly play the guitar – Raven complained that her fingers were hurting. The instrument was placed aside. At first, Raven attempted to escape Garfield's clutches, but he was adamant at not letting her go.

"Gar," she growled. He had tightened his arms around her stomach and pushed his forehead between her shoulder blades. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"

"Noooo idea," he chuckled. Very suddenly, he rolled onto his back, taking Raven with him. She let out a cry of protest, but her arms were pinned firmly to her sides.

"Garfield!" she yelled. "Is this necessary?"

"You never let me hug you!" he explained. "I'm making up for lost time!" She groaned audibly. Raven had never really been a hugger. It just felt like too much contact for too much time. Whenever she hugged someone, it was a _treat_.

"There is a reason I am not always letting you hug me, Garfield," she growled. He rolled them both onto the side, and Raven was very much aware that, technically, he was spooning her. Her stomach fluttered.

"And that is?" His breath ruffled her hair. It tickled her neck.

"I don't like human contact." _Except yours_.

"Don't you like me?"

"Of course I like you." _A little too much._

"Then you should hug me more often."

"Gar, your logic is flawed." _I love your flaws._

"You know you love me, Rae." He was smiling against her hair, she could feel it. Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath.

"Totally." Garfield laughed softly, happy he had won the argument. She'd tell him someday. How incredibly true that statement was. But not today, and not tomorrow. Hell, maybe not even for ten years.

But one day, Raven would let Garfield know that she had fallen in love with a fellow Freak. One with blonde hair and green eyes and a stupid sense of humor. And maybe everything would be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – If I owned the Titans, why in the WORLD would I be writing fanfiction?! I'D BE BRINGING THE SHOW BACK.

A/N – This is the last one you crazies. You cannot coax me into more. Not even with puppy eyes. Enjoy the last installment, babes.

…

Raven could not for the life of her understand how Kori had managed to convince her going out to get drinks on a Friday night was a good idea. She had been sitting in her apartment, minding her own business, when her roommate very suddenly burst out of her room and practically begged Raven to join her at a bar. Kori should have known by now that Raven _hated_ going out, especially to crowded bars in the middle of the night.

And yet, here she was, being dragged by her roommate down the street at nine o'clock in uncomfortable shoes and a skirt much too short for her liking. Kori had insisted on it, saying that they were going to "pick up the boys", so Raven had to look at least a little nice. Kori Anders, Raven's roommate and fellow lonely single, would have no problem picking up guys by herself. With her exotic accent, perfect body, and miles of crimson hair, she had men drooling at every turn. About a year before, she had been engaged to a man who turned out to just be going out with her to get to her sister. For a good six months, she had been a sobbing mess that Raven had to deal with whenever she wasn't at work. It was just recently Kori had been acting like herself.

Raven was beginning to wonder if this change was so great.

"Here it is!" Kori exclaimed, waving her free hand wildly at a ubiquitous brick building. Raven cocked an eyebrow, taking in the sight. A little sign above the doorway read: _Speakeasy_. Through the small windows, the twenty-seven year-old could see dim lighting (no flashing colors, a plus) and a few people actually dancing (but not hardcore grinding, a second plus!). It didn't seem all that bad.

"How'd you find this place?" Raven asked her friend. Kori didn't answer. Without letting go of Raven's hand, she pushed open the door and pulled them both inside.

Raven was immediately bombarded with the voices of a multitude of people. A light, sweet scent of alcohol permeated the air. Kori let go of Raven's hand, heading confidently to the bar. At first, Raven was confused. Whenever her roommate had dragged her out before, she had mostly stuck to flitting aimlessly all over the place. Tonight, she had purpose. As Kori saddled up at the bar and flirtatiously leaned forward on her elbows, Raven immediately deduced what it was. A handsome young man with spiky, jet black hair was bar-tending. He turned to look at the gorgeous red-head, and threw her a smirk, adjusting his sunglasses as he did so. Raven let out a tiny chuckle. Of course. Kori was in love again, and needed a reason to come to this bar without looking creepy. Raven didn't mind in the least bit. It was probably good that she get out of the house anyway.

She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and looked around, taking in the bar's atmosphere. It was rather nice. Lots of wood paneling. Some tables and chairs were scattered along the walls, filled with laughing people. In one corner, a band played some sort of indie music. The rafters were strung with strings of bulbs like over sized Christmas lights. The actual bar was surrounded by old fashioned cushioned stools. Most of the seats were taken, except a few here and there. Deciding not to entirely third wheel herself, Raven propelled herself toward the back tables. She was able to find an empty one, and sat down. It was pointless to get drunk; she would probably have to _carry_ Kori home.

She tapped her finger lightly to the music, wondering if she should try and talk to someone. She had only had one previous relationship; a fling with a marine biology major in college. He was a really handsome guy, and an absolute gentleman, and even wanted to _marry_ her. But it just felt…weird. She broke up with them after they graduated, and had been with no one since. That was five years ago, and even _she _was starting to get a little antsy.

So, Raven began to (discreetly) check out the men in the bar. Her eyes flickered over each in turn, but all she could see were reasons she didn't like them. _Married. Married. Girlfriend. Drunk. Gay. Also gay. Hey, they'd be pretty cute together. Weird-looking. Douche. Girlfriend. _She shook her head in frustration, not even bothering with the rest. Trying to find the perfect guy in a crowded bar was the equivalent to the infamous needle and haystack situation. She leaned on one hand, letting her curtain of black hair shield her face.

That was when the door opened.

Raven glanced up, out of habit. Immediately, her stomach clenched painfully. Standing in the doorway, looking tired and a little displaced, was a tall, lean man with messy blonde hair and eyes the color of pine needles.

"Garfield…" Her voice was barely a whisper. It felt like her heart had stopped in her chest. It was the boy who was her best and only friend for eleven years. The same boy she had fallen in love with. The same boy who had left her to fend for herself nine years before.

He was standing barely twenty feet from her.

Raven was so shocked, she forgot that she was staring at him, mouth agape. Garfield was glancing around, the corner of his lip perked up. He ran one hand through his hair. Then his eyes met hers. He looked confused for a moment, and then surprised. A huge smile began to spread over his face. "Rae-"

Before she knew what was happening, Raven was up and out of the chair, running for the bathroom. She knocked into a few people on the way, earning some curses and remarks on her rudeness. But she didn't care. She needed to get away. She needed to hide.

The women's bathroom was at the back, in a hallway off of the main room. Raven was grateful there was no line. She grabbed the handle and swung the door open, nearly tripping in her haste to get inside. She stumbled over to a stall and slammed and locked the door behind her, breaths coming in harsh gasps.

It hadn't been his fault. Not in the least. If anything, she was to blame.

Raven's worst fear was being alone. It reminded of her of the days her father seemed to be around every corner, ready to show her what rule she had broken, what happened to _bad_ girls. "For your own good, Raven," he would growl. Then the stinging pain. Her mother was a far-off shadow, unable to intervene out of fear. She had been alone then. And then Garfield befriended her, saved her from the loneliness. They spent eleven years as inseparable as twins, and she had forgotten what the loneliness felt like. And then he left. And the loneliness was back, and she had no one to blame but herself.

She could remember with a vividness the night after graduating high school. He had taken her to a park at midnight, and they had climbed a tree. Raven felt like the entire world revolved around them. She had been so happy, and so ridiculously in love with a boy who did not feel the same.

"I'm leaving," he had told her. And her world came to a jarring halt. He had been offered an opportunity to intern for world famous zoologist, who lived in Africa. "This is my dream, Rae," he had said happily. "My parents would have wanted this."

"You're leaving?" she had whispered. The breath had stilled in her lungs.

He had shrugged, gripping a tree branch in one hand. "You can say that."

She had never cried in front of him until that moment. How could she be so stupid? How could she believe he would stay forever? They were children who now had to learn to be adults.

"Raven…" he had pulled her into his arms, almost toppling them both out of the tree in the process. "Not forever. And we'll keep in touch! We can email each other….and, uh….call! If I have service anyway….Hey! We can even write letters! Snail-mail!"

And he had kept his promise. Raven could not keep track of all of the emails crowding her inbox, all of the letters unopened, all of the calls that she had let ring into nothing. She watched it happen, knowing that she had to distance herself, had to stop loving him. The letters and emails slowed, and then eventually stopped. The phone calls didn't take much longer to peter out completely. The emails remained unopened. The letters sat in a box under her bed, each with stamps showing various animals. Sometimes a doodle on an envelope or a tiny note caught her eye, but they only caused more pain. Those were shoved to the bottom of the box. The voice mails were each deleted. All except for the last one. She had let herself listen to it, holding on to the very last shred of their friendship. She knew it word for word.

_Raven? I called Victor fifteen times just to make sure you weren't dead. It's been two years. I miss you. Why won't you answer?_

He hadn't tried to contact her since. It had been seven years. And now he was standing in that bar, he had _seen_ her. And Raven was terrified. She felt like a little girl again, going in to the first day of school. She could hear Dr. Adams in her head, a question spoken in soft tones: _Do you have any friends, Raven_?

Taking a deep breath, Raven steadied herself. She was a full-grown woman, not a six year-old. Was she really scared of a boy who had been her best friend? She wasn't a little girl who was confused as to why the world was such a mean place. Steeling herself, she unlocked the stall door and walked back out into the bar.

She shoved her shaking hands into her pockets and walked over to an empty area at the bar. She sat on the farthest stool, curling into herself. Garfield was nowhere to be seen. Raven let out a tiny breath of relief. She immediately sucked it back in when a hand tapped her shoulder.

Whipping around, she came face to face with Garfield Logan. _Oh, god_, she thought. _He's going to be so mad that I ignored him. He's going to yell at me, or he's going to cry and_

His arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her off of the stool and into his arms. Raven was stiff with shock, suddenly very aware of his warmth. His face was pushed into her neck; she could feel him smiling against her clavicle. Tentatively, she let her arms string around his shoulders, unsure as to what she should be feeling.

Eventually he let her go, setting her back on the stool. His eyes were wide and bright, not a single hint of anger or hurt in their green depths. He looked as handsome as he had at eighteen, but there was an older quality to him. A roughness to his skin, a sleek fullness to his muscles. There was a scar on his chin she hadn't seen before. Raven swallowed, suddenly glad that Kori had made her put on makeup.

"Raven," he murmured. "Raven."

She let a tiny smile onto her face. "It's me, Gar." Her childhood friend stepped back, putting both hands into his hair and looking her up and down.

"You look great," he smiled. She blushed.

"So do you." Gar flipped his hand at her, the international gesture for 'It's nothing'. He pulled himself into the seat next to her, one arm brushing hers. Raven felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

"I'm going to buy you a drink," he stated. Raven's eyes bugged. She was about to protest, but he held a hand up. "I haven't seen you in nine years, Rae. Let me have this pleasure." He ordered both of them IPAs, and Raven stared at him, trying to take him all in while he wasn't paying attention. His golden hair was cut shorter than how he had had it during high school; his bangs barely brushed his eyebrows. His face was scruffy and broad, but still relatively young-looking for a man of almost thirty. She could just barely see the outlines of his clear-cut muscles under his t-shirt. The edges of a tattoo peaked out from under his sleeve. Briefly, she wondered what it was.

Gar turned back to her, a smile on his face. "So," he said, leaning back conversationally. "You kept the same haircut?"

Raven rolled her eyes, reaching up the run a hand over the sleek, chin-length strands. "It works."

Garfield cocked an eyebrow. "You know, I think that you've had that hairstyle since first grade." Raven smiled slightly, letting the black curtain fall across her face again. She heard Garfield make a huffing noise, and nearly jumped out of her skin when his hand reached over and brushed her hair behind her ear. She held her breath until he took his hand away.

"You gotta stop doing that," Gar mumbled. Was she imagining the tinge to his cheeks? "I wanna see your face, Rae." Now she was most certainly blushing. They were rescued by a bartender, who put their beers down on the counter in front of them.

Garfield sniffed his, and then sipped. He scrunched up his nose slightly as he swallowed, but he apparently liked it, as he faced her with yet another smile. She tentatively sipped her own, the bitter liquid spreading bubbles of warmth through her body.

"Tell me, Raven," Gar asked, taking another swig. "What have you been up to the last ten years?"

…

They spent the next three hours talking and drinking. At first it had been the usual: school, jobs, life. And then they joked and reminisced about their childhood together. Intermixed were questions about new dreams, new thoughts, new opinions. Raven told him about Kori, and about her old boyfriend who perpetually smelled like fish. This got a laugh out of him; but then again, the alcohol in their blood made them both find many things much too funny.

Gar told her about the scar on his chin, laughing as he retold the story of the ostrich who _hated_ him, and had kicked him in the face the first day he met it. "Good ole' Ollie," he smirked. "That was one grumpy-ass ostrich."

As the night wore on, they began to get deeper and deeper with their recent pasts. Raven told Garfield about her mother dying from cancer, earning her a long, warm hug. He queued her in on the story of his own heartbreak. "Her name is Terra," he had murmured, staring at a fixed point in the distance. "She was another intern." He had really loved her, had imagined a life time adventuring with this girl. But Terra had been terrified of commitment, and had broken up with him right after he had asked her to come home with him. "Kinda sucked," he ended, trying to crack a smile.

At this time, Raven was quite thoroughly buzzed. No, she wasn't slurring words or falling out of her stool. But her mouth certainly got a lot freer.

"I thought you never wanted to fall in love," she pointed out, one eyebrow raised. Garfield rubbed the back of his neck, an almost sheepish look on his face.

"What can I say?" he said. "I was seventeen. I was dumb. Well, dumber."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "Don't forget completely blind."

He shot her a confused look. "What are you talking about?" Raven shook her head, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

"It's just…" she paused, a slight bit of soberness lightening her brain. What in the hell was she about to say? She struggled, trying to fix her words. "You…um….I….never mind."

Garfield raised an eyebrow. "No. Tell me. I'm curious now, Rae-Rae. Don't leave me hanging!" His tone was playful, not prying. He was leaning in close to her, as if sharing a secret. She could smell the sweet alcohol on his breath, the musky scent of his skin. And suddenly, a little spark she hadn't felt in a very long time ignited.

The band started up a quick-paced song. Raven barely recognized it, but she needed an escape from this moment. "C'mon!" she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the chair. "I want to dance!"

Garfield laughed as she pulled him onto the still-crowded dance floor. "Who are you, and what have you done with Raven?" he called. Raven let herself laugh back, the alcohol freeing her emotions from their cages. It was incredible. She felt like she could fly to the moon on this carefree ecstasy. She held onto Gar's hands and danced, letting him spin her and laughing when either of them tripped.

"I never took you for someone who could have fun!" he yelled over the music. She smiled back, throwing her coat off to the side.

"I didn't either!" she laughed. And they danced, and the world whirled around them in brilliant lights and colors. Raven was barely aware that she was starting to get dizzy. In fact, she didn't notice it at all until she fell forwards.

With near lightning-quick reflexes, Garfield shot forward to catch her. They collided, Raven's face pressing against his chest while his arms tightened around her waist as he stumbled backward. She felt like the world was spinning a little too fast for her liking. Gar's heartbeat was strong and loud against her face. She focused on it, hoping that she wasn't about to vomit all over him. As the nausea passed, she glanced up and found herself mere inches from Gar's mildly worried face. She swallowed, unable to take her eyes off of his. His worry melted to surprise, and then confusion, and then back to worry.

"C'mon, Rae," he said softly, adjusting her so her arms was slung around his shoulders. "Maybe we should take fun in little doses."

"Probably a good idea," she mumbled back. He was leading her outside, grabbing onto her coat as he did so. She found herself enjoying the feeling of his arm around her waist. He was so warm, like a blanket. A memory suddenly unveiled itself in her head, and Raven burst into giggles.

Garfield looked at her, looking even more worried than before. "You hurt yourself, Rae? I mean, I know I have rock hard abs, but –"

"Do you remember when you taught me that song?" Raven interrupted. She was no longer giggling, as that was too foreign even for drunk Raven.

Garfield thought for a moment, letting go of her and leaning against the brick building. A slight breeze ruffled his hair, making it stick up on one side. Then his eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, yeah!" He laughed at the memory. "I made you sit on my lap! Jeez, that must have been awkward. Teenage Garfield was such a freak!"

Raven smiled slightly, stepping closer to him. "Makes sense," she murmured. "I mean, we are the Freak Club." Gar nodded, his mouth quirking up into that familiar grin.

"Do you wanna hear something weird?"

Raven felt a flutter in her stomach – something she hadn't felt in years. "Do you know how many times I have regretted saying yes to that question, Garfield?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off of the wall and stepping towards her. They were close enough to touch now. "I double dog swear that it has nothing to do with snakes, insects, or gross body functions." She smiled at the phrase. He had said it a thousand times as a child.

"Then go right ahead," she said softly. His eyes caught hers.

"Remember when we met?" he asked.

"How could I forget? You rescued my Harry Potter book."

"No. In the doctor's office." Raven briefly remembered the glimpse in her mind: a tiny blonde boy, raising a hand to wave at her as the door closed. She nodded, still lost in the emerald depths of his eyes.

Garfield swallowed, leaning a little closer to her. His voice was barely a whisper. "I thought you were the prettiest girl I had ever seen. And it stayed that way for a really long time."

Raven was moving even closer now, her face only inches from his. Their hands brushed. "Until Terra?" she whispered.

"No," he breathed. "Until I walked in and saw you again." And he closed the distance between them. Raven gasped slightly as their lips met. They were warm and soft and sweet; everything she thought they would be. She reached her hands around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. His hands tentatively pressed her lower back. She broke the kiss, keeping their noses touching. She was breathing a little heavily, but she felt it necessary.

"You're an idiot," she stated. Gar drew back slightly, looking confused and a little miffed.

"Um, what?" he said. "As far as I recall, I'm pretty dang smooth. I mean, you kissed me back and didn't punch me! That's a win."

She rolled her eyes, letting one hand caress the back of his head. "No, you are an idiot," she deadpanned. "I've liked you for as long as I can remember, and you never figured it out."

Garfield's brow crinkled. "Are you messing with me, Rae?" he said slowly. "Because I distinctly remember you barely putting up with me." She smirked at him.

"I did barely put up with you," she murmured. He narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think you understand how confusing you are being."

Raven slid her hands down his chest, leaning against him. They really weren't kidding when they said that alcohol was liquid courage.

"You know, I've always found your jokes sort of funny," she smiled. His eyes lit up.

"I lied, I really did enjoy that book you lent me in third grade," he laughed back.

"I found that stupid zombie flick you made me watch in seventh grade a little entertaining."

"I used to keep listening on the phone when you fell asleep."

"That's creepy."

"You are too."

She paused, stifling a small smile. "I guess this works then."

_My name's Garfield. You know…like the cat!_

He pulled her closer. "I like this."

_I know._

"Me too," she murmured. She ran a hand down his face. Twenty years. Had it really been twenty years? She felt like a little girl again, this little boy next to her pulling away her fear and opening the world for her.

_Will you be my friend, Raven?_

He kissed her again, slowly, and she melted into him. "Welcome back to the Freak Club, Rae," he breathed.

_Okay_.

…

A/N – I am hereby apologizing for the amount of cheesy-ness. It's on the level of macaroni and cheese minus the macaroni. Hopefully this appeases you 3


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